It Always Starts With A Dance
by that-first-glance-feeling
Summary: "May I have this dance, milady?" Such are the first words Emma Swan hears from Killian Jones as they meet in a party Mary Margaret had dragged her to. She's never been one to romanticise dancing or to believe in love at first sight; but with him it seems like she's very much in danger of doing both. CS modern day AU, one-shot.


**A/N: One-shot I wrote based off a first line prompt which the lovely Lizzyc807 sent to me on tumblr.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>It Always Starts With A Dance<strong>_

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><p>He spun her out the length of his arm and pulled her back tight as he shuffled his hips into hers, swaying them back and forth to the rhythmic sound of the music.<p>

He was a magnificent thing. He moved perfectly in time with the music, spinning them around in smooth circles on the dance floor and it felt so easy. She had never seen a particular appeal in dancing, unlike every single one of her friends - insert Mary Margaret at the top of that list - who seemed to romanticise the whole thing to no end.

But, it was completely different now. She might just have to rethink her opinions on dancing because letting him spin her around in his arms somehow felt inexplicably _right_, and she couldn't help but thinking they were made to dance together.

_No, Emma, don't._ She had just met the guy, for god's sake, she couldn't just swoon like this over a perfect stranger.

Although, if she was being perfectly honest with herself, that sparkle behind his too blue eyes when he'd asked her to dance made her wonder if they had met before somehow, in another life perhaps.

(_May I have this dance, milady?_)

That was it. She was sold. That's all it took for her to immediately feel the air backing up into her lungs and her heart drumming a maddening staccato inside her chest as she was paralysed - to the point where all she could do was take the hand he'd offered her and let him lead her to the dance floor.

And now here they were. Swaying slowly in a lazy rhythm, interrupted only by his occasional whim to spin her out and bring her back into her arms. In fact, he was about to do it again. She could tell by the smirk that started to bloom in his lips, the same one he'd had on before twirling her out the previous times - it was his little signal to let her get ready for it.

Only this time, after he spun her out, he pulled her back to him keeping her back to his front, every inch of his torso touching her back and she felt a delicious shiver jolting down her spine when he rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

"You haven't said a word to me, and though the look in your eyes alone speaks volumes, I'd still like to know your name, love."

She felt herself fluster as she knew engaging in conversation with this ridiculously attractive stranger was inevitable, so there was no point in stalling anymore.

"Emma, Emma Swan."

He flashed her a crooked smile before spinning her out again and pulling her back to face him this time, bringing her hand to his lips as he planted a kiss to her knuckles.

"It's my utter pleasure to meet you. I'm Killian Jones."

"That's an interesting name." She said nonchalantly.

"I promise I'll tell you all about its origins if you let me take you out for dinner."

She felt a blush creeping to her cheeks and she was helpless to try to stop it - her whole body was about to burn up in flames with the proximity to this man full of gallantries and smiles and whispered words.

"I don't usually go out with strangers."

He chuckled. "What better way to fix that than getting to know each other better?"

She smiled and tilted her head to examine his expression. There was surely a mischievous gleam in his eye, but other than that he seemed genuinely interested in _her_, unlike all the other previous unfortunate dates she'd had with idiots who didn't even bother having an actual conversation with her, their minds often too focused elsewhere.

"Why? And I mean, why _everything_? Why did you pick _me _to dance with in the first place?"

"I saw you talking to your friend at the bar and, well, I don't really know, there's… _something _about you that I can't quite put my finger on, but you definitely caught my eye, miss Swan."

She blinked at him a few times. Of course, that was the most vague explanation ever, but, as surreal as it seemed, she understood him perfectly. She felt the exact same thing once he'd taken her by the hand and swept her off her feet on the dance floor. _Figuratively_, of course. She didn't even know what she would do if he literally attempted at it.

"Right… and now you want to know me better?" She replied with a crooked smile of her own.

"That I do. Come on, love, what do you say? Take a leap of faith." He said with a soft smile, his steps coming to a halt as he once again offered her his hand.

She took a deep breath and made the fatal mistake of looking into his eyes searching for an answer. And what she found there was astonishing and frightening for Emma, but at the same time, it was _promising_.

She exhaled deeply and her mind was made.

She abruptly turned around and walked away from him with long, confident strides.

Killian tried in vain to hide the upset look in his face as he turned around and moved to go away, his shoulders bent and an insistent little voice nagging at the back of his mind. He couldn't explain why but he felt a sharp pang in the depths of his being, as if he had just lost something precious and special.

Emma ran over to where Mary Margaret was and kissed her cheek, grabbing her bag and thanking her friend for dragging her there tonight.

She ran back to Killian to find him making his way to the exit looking awfully dejected - that is until she caught up with him and boldly laced her arm with his. She was beaming at him and she could swear she'd never felt that confident about making an impulsive decision before in her life.

"I hope you haven't given up on that dinner idea so quickly."

He beamed right back at her. "Not a chance, love."

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><p><strong>Review? :)<strong>


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